Fire and Ice
by Kathryne Buzolic
Summary: "So, to sum it up, you got lost on your way to Hogwarts, passing through Narnia, where everyone travels by closet, all because you failed your TARDIS test and the Hundred Acre Woods are easy to get turned around in?" he asked dryly. Trying to not cackle at the fact that I got him to say 'TARDIS', I nodded, pressing my lips together. Roy Mustang was clearly not impressed.
1. Headaches

**Hello, hello, hello! It is I, Kathryne! I've finally bucked up the courage to post my first FMA fanfic! I don't want to have an insanely long author's note at the beginning, so I'll just shut up after a disclaimer and let you read.**

**DISCLAIMER: Unfortunately, I do NOT own FMA or any of the stuff related to it. I'll be making references to other fandoms, but guess what? Unless it's merchandise, it's unlikely I own what's mentioned! I don't even own Melody. HOW SAD IS THAT? So, without further ado...HERE WE HAVE...THE FIRST CHAPTER OF...FIRE AND ICE!**

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_There's a poem by Robert Frost I've loved since I was a child, even though it took me nearly ten years to understand, and just a little longer to realize just how it applied to me. I was floored when it dawned on me that I knew **exactly **what Frost meant when he wrote it._

_Before you get the wrong idea, I'm not one of those deep, poetic kids. Sure, I read almost any book I can get my hands on, and I used to have a few lines of Edgar Allen Poe's 'The Raven' painted on my bedroom wall, but I've never been a great thinker. I had reasonable grades, and adults always say I'm insightful, but I'm not a thinker. I'm not intelligent in any special way; I'm smart in the general sense of the word. I'm not special. I'm not brilliant. I'm just an average fifteen year old who's lactose intolerant and took karate for seven years. Nothing too amazing when it concerns me. Or...It used to be that way..._

_But, anyway, there was a moment in my life where I could perfectly understand someone I considered truly poetic. I went through hell beforehand, but afterword...It was complete comprehension. I could understand, one hundred percent, what Robert Frost had truly meant._

_I remember the day it all started like it was burned into my mind. Which, as far as I know, it actually has been. Once upon a time, I was a normal girl with normal issues. Then I ended up meeting an insanely violent kid with metal limbs that tried to rip my head off when I accidentally called him short, and a rather handsome colonel that almost lit me on fire. (Charming people, huh?)_

_I'm getting ahead of myself, though. Let's start from the **very **beginning. Maybe you'll understand, just like I did. By the way, I'm Melody. Melody Knight. And this is pretty much the story of how the shit hit the fan and my life got seriously screwed up._

**xXx**

Some say the world will end in fire,  
Some say in ice.  
From what I've tasted of desire,  
I hold with those who favor fire.  
But if it had to perish twice,  
I think I know enough of hate,  
To say that for destruction ice  
Is also great,  
And would suffice.

—Robert Frost

**xXx**

It was a typically normal Friday at four o'clock. I was pretending to listen to my best friend, Kat Hamilton, while she talked about her favorite anime, Fullmetal Whatsit. Really, I tried to listen, but the second she started talking about some flame mustang guy, I tuned out. It was beyond my comprehension. She'd tried many times to get me to watch it with her, and I _had _actually watched part of an episode where a guy/girl with hair like a palm tree (or maybe even a pine tree) kicked the crap outta the blond kid with the braid, but there was some creepy guy with a whispery voice and an upside down head attached to an animal body, and I was a little too weirded out to continue watching.

It was kinda strange, to be honest, but I pretended to be listening as she babbled on about the flame-y mustang dude and how he wanted all the chick officers to wear tiny miniskirts (to which, I would have said, had the guy been real, "Kiss my ass."). I never understood her obsession with it, but I plastered on a smile anyway and nodded when I had to, secretly thinking about my brand new Doctor Who boxset sitting at home, calling to me.

"_Melody," _it cried in the distance, _"Why aren't you watching me? You spent almost seventy fricking dollars on me, so whyyyy must you keep me in my plastic torment? Melody, free my disks and let them rest in your DVD player. Japanese cartoons can't **ever **beat me. Melody, Meloooodddyyyy! Set me freeeeeee!" _it screamed.

So maybe I was being dramatic. But seriously. There were only so many times I could try to comprehend how a cartoon could be 'hot' (because that was seriously creepy) and try to act like I understood what the hell a transmutation square was. Or...Was it a circle? It was some sort of shape!

"...I mean, seriously. Ed is _soooo _cute. And he's really funny when people call him short." Kat was saying, her hazel eyes getting glazed over as she talked about her fangirl crush.

Personally, I preferred tall, giraffe-like British men to shrimpy, cartoon blond kids, but that was just me.

"How tall is he supposed to be?" I asked absently, giving the appearance that I actually cared about this conversation. I loved Kat to death, but when it came to anime, I was about as lost as a WindClan kit in a ShadowClan nursery.

….Not that anyone besides my sister would understand what that meant.

"Uh, about 4'11, I think." Kat said, biting her lip. Thankfully, she wasn't one of those scarily obsessed fangirls. (At least, I hoped. Sometimes I was sure she was just playing dumb to lessen the chance of creeping me out.)

"So, I'm taller than him, then." I guessed, grinning at my small victory. Hey, I didn't care if the dude was animated or not. When you're just over five feet and the only people shorter than you are several years younger than you, you'll take any chance to say you're taller than someone who's your age.

Even if they're in some weird cartoon about trains and red rocks.

Kat snorted. "There's a first." she muttered under her breath, rolling over on her bed so she could face me instead of her frankly weird poster of some suit of armor.

I reached up and hit her, making a face. "DON'T CALL ME SHORT! I'LL FREAKING SHOVE A SHOE DOWN YOUR STUPID THROAT, YOU JERK." I yelled. Kat cackled a little, clapping her hands in an evilly amused way.

"You sure you never pay attention to it? 'Cause that's basically Ed right there." she said, still giggling a bit. I huffed, crossing my arms.

"_Mellloooodddyyy!" _my Doctor Who boxset cried again. _"Don't take this abuse! Join us! We're a BBC production; we'd never make fun of youuu!"_

"I wish I could, guys, I wish I could." I told them mournfully, staring into the distance as I imagined myself curling up in bed with my Kirby pillow and Merlin shirt and watching all of season five in one night. However, I couldn't, since I'd promised Kat I would stay the night and watch her weird cartoons with her.

Speaking of the devilish brunette, I noticed she was giving me an odd look, eyebrows raised. From my spot on the floor, I shrugged.

"BBC TV doth tempt me." I said in what was supposed to be an impression of...Well...I wasn't sure. Kat rolled her eyes.

"Oh, come on. If you gave it a real chance, you'd like it." she insisted for the _thousandth freaking time. _"I bet you'd love it."

I groaned, covering my eyes. That wasn't really necessary, since my dark red bangs did that for me, but I threw a hand over them anyway.

"You say that every time. And every time, I think it's fricking _weird! _It's a cartoon! I'm a sophisticated person! I'm more interested in wibbly wobbly, timey wimey...Stuff." I finished somewhat lamely. Kat scoffed, flipping her hair and hopping up.

"Whatever. I solemnly swear by the end of the night, Fullmetal Alchemist will be your entire world." she vowed. "I'm getting my Ed plushie from the living room."

As she flounced out, I sighed, letting my hand slide down my face. We went through almost the exact same thing when I tried to get her to watch one of my shows, but we were both pretty much set on having nothing in common, TV-wise. Kat was all about anime and crime shows, while I preferred fantasy—as in, stuff like Merlin, Stargate, stuff like that—and Disney movies like freaking Mulan. Which was the closest I ever got to anime, in case you were wondering.

THEY WERE ALL ANIMATED ASIANS. WHAT'S THE DIFFERENCE?

And no, I'm not being racist. I'm just saying. WHAT WAS EVER SO WRONG ABOUT ME JUST WANTING TO WATCH MULAN INSTEAD OF SOME BLOND PIPSQUEAK GETTING THE LIVING SHIT BEAT OUT OF HIM BEFORE HE COULD CLAP HIS HANDS AND DO SOME HOCUS POCUS SHIT?! IF HE WAS IN A CIRCUS, MAYBE I'D WATCH IT, BUT INSTEAD HE WAS SOME MILITARY DUDE OR WHATEVER WITH A FANCY WATCH AND A FREAKY SUIT OF ARMOR THAT FOLLOWED HIM AROUND EVERYWHERE.

And people called me weird for watching a show about a clumsy dude in a bowtie. _Seriously._

Rolling my eyes and trying to mentally prepare myself for the weirdness of several hours of cartoons, I took to examining Kat's room, my home away from home.

The walls were pretty much covered with posters of several different anime characters, but there were little spots of red poking out every here and there, revealing the walls' actual color. The desk, dresser and vanity were relatively neat, but the pink shag carpet was another story. Aside from my spot at the foot of the bed, there was little carpet visible. Shoes, clothes, books and a red cape of all things were scattered all around, making it sort of a death trap to navigate. Her bed was neatly made, the blue comforter spread out evenly on the large mattress. Kat was a bit weird like that; she wanted the surface of everything above the ground to be nice and orderly, but the ground _had _to be messy so she could hop over everything and pretend she was a ninja or something.

Just as I was about to climb onto the soft bed and pretend to have fallen asleep, Kat came bouncing back in, her stuffed...thing...clutched tightly in her hands. That just made the thing a whole lot creepier. She grinned, squealing something about a brotherhood or whatever the hell she was in love with and pretty much ignoring my tortured look as she put in a DVD. That could have been me with Doctor Who...

I got a bit of a headache as it started up and she flew onto the bed above me, bouncing like an excited dog that might have had to go pee, but I brushed it off, joining her on the bed and trying for her sake to actually pay attention this time.

An hour later, I was staring up at the ceiling blankly while Kat was basically saying the lines word for word, trying to keep my eyes open. My headache had worsened, and I'd asked Kat's mom during the second episode for an Advil or whatever, but that had somehow made it worse, so there I was, listening to animated people scream at each other and Kat whispering the lines to herself, occasionally having a fangirl attack so intense that I was surprised she hadn't had a seizure or something.

I grumbled in my head, eventually squeezing my eyes shut tight to try to lessen the feeling of a nail being hammered into my skull. Kat hit me after a while, making me sit up and watch as the palm tree guy/girl beat up the blond kid. After that, I rubbed my head and flopped back down.

I was starting to think it was a migraine or something, caused by the stupid cartoon. It had only started when she put the stupid show on. (In retrospect, I'd realize that blaming the show, which was relatively harmless, was pretty stupid, but right then, I was even willing to blame the guy across the street blasting Breaking Benjamin or something.

Kat was saying something to me in a low voice, but I paid her no attention, focusing my eyes on the only normal poster she had on her ceiling, which was of Justin Timberlake. Timberlake was nice...Very nice.

The evening was sort of a blur for me. I spent the majority of the night trying to refrain from screaming when Kat started thrashing around and singing in Japanese, and wondering what sort of God-awful thing I'd done to deserve such a horrible headache. Occasionally, I'd sit up and watch 'important' parts with her, but it all went over my head. All I really gathered was that Ed was a short little drama queen, Envy was a psychotic asshole whose gender was a little questionable, and Ed got hit in the face with a wrench a lot. Oh, and I was also informed that some guy named May or something like that was a bit obsessed with showing off his daughter.

Freaking. Weird.

I must have ended up falling asleep, because I opened my eyes a good few hours later to a pitch black room. Which, in itself, should have been my first warning that something was off, since the last time I'd looked at the clock, it was only ten, and Kat had been downing energy drink after energy drink. She would have still been up. There was a little niggling thought in the back of my head, saying something about the truth. Telling the truth...Finding the truth...Something involving the truth...

However, I was just focused on the fact that I really, _really _had to pee. I felt around and my fingers found a hard object to my left. Assuming it to be Kat, I just ignored it, giving it a sharp poke and got onto my hands and knees, slowly crawling forward. If my bladder hadn't been about to explode, I _may _have realized that I had fallen asleep on a bed, but I was able to crawl a good five feet before my head hit a wall. Holding my forehead, I tried to glare at the thing I'd crawled into, but it was so dark I was just giving straight up blackness a death look.

Distantly, I was aware of _faintly _familiar voices speaking not too far off, but it sounded muffled.

"...to not do your paperwork, Colonel." someone was saying, sounding a bit annoyed. It sounded like a woman, or maybe a really young guy that hadn't gone through puberty. I couldn't tell. Might've been Kat's parents roleplaying or something. Raising my eyebrows and suppressing a shudder, I slowly got to my feet, feeling along the wall for a doorknob or a light switch. Which ever came first.

There was a reply I didn't really catch, but then, I was focused on finding a toilet and not wanting to pee myself in Kat's room. Finally, I felt a cool, metal round thing in the dark and gave a noise of victory, hurriedly turning it and yanking it backward.

I almost hit myself in the face with the door, but bathroom privileges sort of made me NOT CARE, so I skipped out into the light, realizing a few seconds too late that something was extremely very not good.

"...This isn't the bathroom." I said almost dumbly, looking around with wide eyes.

* * *

**AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND SCENE! There ya have it, folks! The first chapter of my first FMA fic! This is basically just supposed to be written for my friend for shits and giggles, but I decided to post it on here instead of sending it to her privately to see what everyone else thinks. It was written while I had a HELL of a migraine(which isn't actually why Melody had one) and I was also sleep-deprived, but I've been putting off posting for a few weeks, so I decided to just post this. Chances are I'll go back and edit it in a bit, but for now...HERE IT IS!  
**

**Melody is basically one of my good friends, but for this story's sake, I've changed her name and appearance, just because she's obnoxious like that. So, assuming people want me to continue this, I'll pretty much be writing as Melody. Everything written about her is EXACTLY how she is, and everything she says/thinks is pretty much true. Except for the jabs at FMA. She loves it as much as I do. Maybe even more.  
**

**But anyway. This isn't your typical 'person randomly drops into the FMA universe and immediately starts hanging out with Ed and Al' fic. At least, I'd like to think it's not. I'm going somewhere with this. I PROMISE. I can tell you right now that Mel isn't going to be the person that tries to follow the plot a whole bunch. She doesn't even KNOW the plot enough to do so. I'm basing this off of the Mel that I had to INTRODUCE SEVERAL TIMES to FMA. The one that laughed when Ed got a wrench in his face and only liked Envy's character. (And even then, her actual words were "Envy's an annoying, psychotic little shit, but the hair's pretty darn cool, and I wish that in some universe I could pull off that outfit.")**

**She isn't going to immediately start hanging around Ed and Al; In fact, if things go the way I plan, she probably won't even MEET them until the very end of the second chapter, or maybe even the start of the third chapter. And when they DO meet, it's still gonna be a while before she really gets in the loop of things. ONE MORE THING ABOUT THIS THOUGH. I'm tweaking personalities just a little bit. JUST A LITTLE BIT. I swear I won't make anyone grossly OOC and have Ed crying over a dead chicken or something weird like that, but I AM going to make some small changes. This author's note is really long so lemme just make ONE MORE little thing and then I'll shut up and act like this isn't summing up to like HALF OF THE CHAPTER.**

**This isn't really set anywhere. It's going to have its own individual plot while still following the main dynamic of the original FMA series. (I'd do Brotherhood because the plot is a bit more..well...yeah, but I'm currently rewatching the original and it's just easier.) THERE WILL BE AN EXPLANATION FOR AS TO WHY MELODY JUST RANDOMLY APPEARED. It'll take a few chapters, but there IS an explanation, and one I'm rather proud of. AND AND AND AND...Umm...I can't say much more without spoiling anything, buuutttt...WANNA GUESS WHOSE OFFICE...TYPE..THING OR WHATEVER SHE'S IN? (Don't judge me. I'm sleep deprived and I've been doing stuff all day.) Really, it should be a little obvious, considering just WHO doesn't like to do his paperwork and makes a point of it...BUT STILLL. Melody won't know. She really doesn't know shit at this point. AAAAND. Right now, Mel is just gonna be involved. But if you guys want me to pair her with someone (like maybe Ed) just let me know! If her personality meshes well with someone, and you think they'd be cute together, JUST LEMME KNOW IN THE FUTURE. But for right now, Mel's just a lone wolf who's gonna be severely confused.  
**

**OKAY. I'M REALLY SORRY THAT THIS AUTHOR'S NOTE TOOK UP MAYBE HALF THE CHAPTER BUT HEY I HAVE A TON TO SAY BUT I'MMA SHUT UP NOW. If you wanna actually talk to me about this fic and hear everything...or see...everything...I have to say about it, don't be shy to message me! I won't take any flames, but ANYWAY. If you wanna pm me, or even leave a review so we can chat about this fic, just do it! I'm ALWAYS happy to talk about FMA-related things!**

**UNTIL NEXT TIME!**


	2. Colonel Sexy

**Heya, peeps! Here it is, the much anticipated (by Wolves Run Free) second chapter! I'm not gonna say too much in this first author's note, so just make sure to read the bottom one! **

**Enjoy!**

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The first thought that really crossed my mind was, _"Damn, this room is bright."_And it was. It was super brightly lit, and since I'd just come from a pitch black room, I was blinking a few times before I could see properly. The first thing to catch my attention after that was the odd way the room was set up. It reminded me of something, but I couldn't figure out what. All I knew was it wasn't any room in Kat's house. Next, I realized that some of the features were sharper than the others, as if maybe they'd been drawn or something. The colors were all a little brighter, too. Like I'd been messing with the color scale on a picture or something. Weeeeiiirrrddd….

Next, my eyes found the gun pointed at me from across the room and the blonde woman behind it. Behind the desk, there was a man with black hair and eyes and….Holy mother of Mary, he was _hot. _Now, if my bladder hadn't been about to explode, I probably would have gawked at him for a very long time. Gorgeous men were usually in my dreams, but…Never as good looking as this guy. He could put David Beckham to shame. And pretty much every other man I could think of. Even Matt Smith and Channing Tatum. EVEN JAMES FREAKING FRANCO, THE GUY I'D HAD A CRUSH ON SINCE I WAS LIKE TEN. And that was hard to pull off. I wondered briefly what his policy was on dating minors, because THAT…Well, sometimes in my dreams, they tell me no, so I always have to wonder and HE was…Sooo worth a scolding from my parents and weird looks I'd get for like…ever.

Sexy Man was staring at me suspiciously, and Gun Happy over there was about to shoot me any second. I realized the only thing I'd said so far was that it wasn't the bathroom. GREAT. I LOOKED STUPID IN FRONT OF SEXY. _GREAT GOING, MELODY. NEXT YOU'RE GONNA REALIZE YOU'RE WEARING YOUR KITTEN PAJAMAS, _my inner voice screamed at me. In a panic, I quickly looked down, only to find I was still wearing my school clothes, which consisted of skinny jeans that I could just BAAARRREEELLLYYY pull off, a pair of worn Converse, and a black Young and Reckless shirt (maybe one of the best shirts ever. EXCEPT MY DRAMA BEATS SHIRT. THAT ONE WILL FOREVER BE AWESOME.). I LOOKED PRESENTABLE FOR SEXY! Except my hair…Who even knew what _that _looked like.

During my internal panic, I'd missed the fact that they'd both spoken to me. The only thing that snapped me out of wondering if crossing my arms would make my boobs look better was a deep voice demanding to know who the hell I was. Looking up quickly, I stared at Sexy Man and Gun Happy, who seriously looked like she wanted to put a bullet in my head. Charming lady.

"Uh, sorry, could you repeat that?" I asked, smiling nervously and tugging on my sleeves. They exchanged a look I couldn't decipher right away, then the woman spoke. NO SEXY MAN VOICE?

"Who are you and how did you get here?" Gun Happy demanded, adjusting her grip on her gun. This dream was just getting weirder. First off, who has to pee in their dreams THIS BAD? And then, who ends up in the office of some sexy military—guessing from his clothing—man and is held at gunpoint by some blonde chick?! (Funny story about 'gunpoint'. Until I was nine, I thought that was a real place. I would hear on the news how people were 'being held at gunpoint', and just assumed it was this club or something, and wondered WHY people kept going there if they were being held up there. I WAS NOT A SMART CHILD, OKAY?)

"I'm…." I paused, squeezing my legs together out of necessity. "About to pee my pants and I was just looking for a bathroom!" I said, looking from Sexy Man to Gun Happy. "If you let me go pee, I'll answer all of your questions and do _whatever _you want!" That last part was directed at Sexy, who had stood up and was giving me a weird look with those dark eyes.

(Kinda weird though, because I was positive that his eyes were black, and I was also pretty sure humans couldn't have black eyes, just suuuuper dark brown ones. But then, it was a DREAM! But if that was true…WHY WAS HE STILL WEARING A SHIRT? IN MY DREAMS THEY NEVER WEAR SHIRTS.)

Almost reflexively, I batted my eyelashes, hoping to seem innocent. Which would MAYBE ruin my plan to seduce him, but hey. Sometimes, it's good to have the element of surprise. Gotta keep people on their toes somehow.

The woman kept her gun on me, but Mr. Tall Dark and HOLY FREAKING CHEESE HE WAS **VERY TALL** **AND HANDSOME BEYOND BELIEF **AND I HAD TO GUESS HE HAD SOME MUSCLES ON HIM…What was I saying? Oh, yes. While I was trying to not pee myself, Sexy Man was regarding me with a furrowed brow, eventually shaking his head.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye, take her to the bathroom, then bring her straight back." he ordered. Deeeeeeppppp voice. Mmmmm….Me gusta. Just imagine him talking to you late at night… Wait. Hawkeye?

What? Were they the fucking Avengers? Who was _he _supposed to be then? Some really weird—yet SEXY—version of Nick Fury? Hmm. I could picture that. Maybe they were some weird roleplaying society. Weelll…I was always one for trying new things…

"Yes, sir." 'Hawkeye' said, nodding once and lowering her gun just a little bit. Hopefully she wouldn't shoot me if I looked at her wrong.

Five minutes later, I had peed and was ushered back to Sexy Man's office. I'd stopped briefly to wave at the men that were staring at me inquisitively, clearly wondering what a fifteen year old girl was doing there. It was like they'd never seen a teenage girl before. Before I could say hi, Haweye grabbed my arm and yanked me back into Sexy's office. He was still behind the desk, eyebrows raised expectantly as I just stood there awkwardly with full knowledge that Hawkeye would shoot me if I made any sudden movements.

This dream was messed up.

"Sooo, uh, hi." I drawled slowly, rocking back on my heels. Part of me wanted to sit down, but for some reason, I felt like I was supposed to be standing. Sexy was sitting again, and I was sure he was getting impatient. "I'm Melody Knight. And, uhhh…I like your face." I wasn't really sure what to say, so I just went with the safest bet. Which was to make sure he knew that I thought he was attractive. _IT MIGHT BE HELPFUL TO MY CASE, OKAY?_ "And...Your office is nice. Very…Uh…Clean."

My eyes wandered for just a second, and I realized that the door I'd come out of, which had been to the left of Sexy's desk, was gone. Just…gone.

"Hey, how'd you hide the door?" I asked as he opened his mouth. Dark eyebrows rose even higher, if that was possible.

"There was no door there to begin with." he told me. I snorted.

"Then how the hell did I get here?" I asked, tipping my head to the side. The thing about me in dreams was…I was always really practical. Always really aware it was a dream, which was weird, and it was frustrating that I was limited to my abilities in the waking world. I couldn't be any smarter or prettier…Nope. I was stuck as is. So, of course, I was being logical, despite the fact I was totally aware I was dreaming.

"That's what I'm wondering." Sexy replied, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Weeeeellll….Uh, I dunno, actually. I'm not even too sure who you are. Or what this place is. But I'm guessing military or some LARPing facility." I said, putting my hands behind my back.

See? I'm pretty awkward and FRUSTRATINGLY HONEST. But since it was a dream…Any second, the Doctor, Merlin, and Sherlock would all come bursting through the door and would confess their undying love to me while Daddy Argent shot a random werewolf in the corner.

What? Just because _I'm _practical doesn't mean my dreams are. (And there wasn't any possibility that Dean Winchester was usually doing shirtless pushups in the background while Castiel fed him grapes.)

"I'm Colonel Roy Mustang." Sexy—I mean Roy said. Wait...That sounded familiar…. "You're in Central Headquarters, and you just appeared in my office."

WHY DID THAT SOUND FAMILIAR?

Waaaaaaiiiitttt. A memory of Kat talking about a flame guy in one of her shows…He had a name like a horse…And I remembered her telling me that he was a colonel or something…Nooooo. I wasn't…I couldn't be…There was no way my dream was….

It was like he could SENSE my hesitation and frustration. His eyes narrowed fractionally and I knew Hawkeye was analyzing me. The gun was lowered, probably because I was just fifteen, but somehow I just _knew _she'd be able to pull it on me again in an instant.

Thus, the interrogation began.

Colonel Sexy—I mean Mustang—stared at me, eyebrows raised. His dark hair fell into his equally dark eyes, and it was all I could do to not ask him if he'd consider dating a minor.  
WHAT?! The guy was hot. If only I was three years older. Then it'd be legal and I wouldn't need a push-up bra to make my boobs noticeable.  
"So, to sum it up, you got lost on your way to Hogwarts, passing through Narnia, where everyone travels by closet, all because you failed your TARDIS test and the Hundred Acre Woods are easy to get turned around in?" he asked dryly. Trying to not cackle at the fact I got him to say 'TARDIS', I nodded, pressing my lips together.  
Roy Mustang was clearly not impressed. I could SEE the muscles in his face twitching. He was trying to not roll his eyes and/or kill me. Hawkeye was just looking at me, probably thinking something along the lines of, _"Is this kid serious?"_  
"Well, that's quite the story you have, Melody. Funny how an ordinary closet brought you all the way to Amestris."  
He was still playing along. WHICH MEANT ROLEPLAYING WASN'T OUT OF THE QUESTION!  
I'm a hormonal teenage girl. Shut up.

To sum it up, I'd put my fandom references to good use. He'd asked me my full name, age, where I lived—NARNIA!—and how the hell I'd randomly appeared in his office. I gathered a few of my fandoms, afraid to use anything related to Merlin just in case that was actually a thing in…What'd he say? Amestris? Yeah. Amestris. ANYWAY. Once I'd put together a plausible story—to people who lived under rocks—I'd tried to remember the name of that short blond kid that screamed at people when they mentioned the fact that he was the size of a pipe cleaner, muttering to myself about him for a few moments before Mustang caught on. Then, brilliantly, I'd said that the midget would understand me! And his fancy-schmancy powers would help explain how the hell I appeared! (I was, of course, forgetting that Sexy was _also _an alchemist, but then I'd flat out told him I'd only discuss the science part of it with people shorter than me. Which was seriously only Ed.) Now that you're caught up…  
I nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's the truth. But, it's like I said, Colonel Sex-I mean Mustang." _Did I really just say that? Oh my God_. His eyebrow rose just a little and I let out a nervous breath, then shrugged, realizing it didn't matter too much. "That blond midget's gonna be the only one that'll understand." I replied, flopping down onto the couch in front of his desk and grinning almost sardonically. Yeah. I know big words. Well...Sardonic isn't big, but…NOT EVERYONE KNOWS WHAT IT MEANS.  
Ed Whatshisface wouldn't understand shit, but I wanted to be able to call someone short who was actually SHORTER THAN ME. But maybe not at first. I didn't want to get my head ripped off so early in my dream.  
Roy's face twitched again, more specifically his lips. Ooh, I was funny. Heh.  
"Fullmetal won't be here for another day, so I suppose we'll have to wait and see if he can understand your story. That'd make one of us."  
_Confused sexy man, lemme teach you the ways of myself. Shh. I'll be gentle. We can take it one step at a time, there's no need to rush. It's like learning to fly, or falling in love…..Wait. That's Jordin Sparks. MY POINT STILL STANDS._  
During my internal...whatever the hell that was, I smirked lazily, raising my eyebrows.  
"Guess you're gonna have to keep me company 'til then, Roy Boy." I drawled.

**Two Hours Later**

Roy almost lit me on fire. That asshole almost lit me on fire because I was being annoying. In the words of Stephanie Judith Tanner, HOW RUDE! Just because I talked a lot, asked a lot of questions and wanted food all the time didn't mean he should have gotten all flame-y on me! Jerk.

I found myself sitting on the ground in front of his desk, glaring at nothing. With my arms crossed and my brow set, I knew I looked pissed. Because I was. HE ALMOST BURNED ME. AND NOT IN A FUNNY, WITTY WAY.

He didn't seem to think that letting me out of his sight was a good idea, so, I sat there for maybe half an hour, prepared to sulk until the jerk-off apologized, but then that turned into forty-five minutes and I was freaking BORED. (Faintly, I wondered how he could possibly think that a fifteen year old could cause enough trouble that I needed to be in his line of sight the entire time I was there, but then I remembered Fullmetal Midget was fifteen, too.)

_I know what you're thinking. __**"How the hell can this possibly still be a dream?"**__ Let me explain you a thing. (By the way, whenever I suddenly get all…italic-y for a while, that means I'm talking from the present instead of the past. This might happen a lot. Who knows?)_

_At the time, I was in serious denial. I was remaining stubbornly ignorant to the fact that I'd hit my head in the closet and it hurt, and that it wasn't nearly choppy enough to be a dream. Let's just get one thing clear: I'M ACTUALLY REALLY PRACTICAL, EVEN IF I SEEM SORT OF NUTS._

_Continuing on!_

"You know, a simple 'shut up' would have done just fine." I said finally, stretching up to look at him over the edge of the desk with a touch of reproachfulness. "Almost lighting my favorite shirt on fire really wasn't necessary."

Colonel Jerkoff looked up from his dreaded paperwork, eyebrows raised. "It seemed to be the only thing that got your attention." he replied, tone daring me to contradict him. With a sigh, I turned back around and stared at his office.

I was actually surprised he hadn't sent me out into the hall like a first grader who disrupted class, but I was also a little thankful. His office was cool, and….

"Do you have any spare papers, maybe a pen or a pencil?" I asked after a moment or two of silence. Roy sighed, making me twist to look at him again. He seemed exasperated, but opened one of the drawers on his desk and handed me a stack of blank papers, along with a pen anyway..

"There. Will you be quiet now?" he asked, eyebrows raised again. I grinned and nodded.

"Yup!" Snatching up the papers and pen, I turned so my body was facing the desk, ready for my new form of entertainment. Mustang paused for a few moments, as if waiting for me to say something. When I didn't, he made a slight face and turned back to his paperwork. Which I could already tell he hated, but apparently, there wasn't much else for him to do besides talk to me, and he'd already made it clear I annoyed him. (Jerkoff…)

Picking up the top sheet and uncapping the pen, I scribbled a little, checking the ink. Satisfied that there would be enough, I grabbed a new paper and peered up at Mustang, then back at my paper, pen poised. Holding it up against the flat front of the desk, I got to work. This process continued for about fifteen minutes before he seemed to notice that every few seconds, my body would stretch up and I'd sneak a glance at him, then duck back down before he could look up and notice me.

"…What are you doing?" he wondered finally, leaning over the desk after I ducked back down. Head snapping up, I hissed at him and started waving one of my arms.

"Don't look!" I yelped, as if I were naked or something. "It's not finished! Sit back down!"

Black eyes filled with faint curiosity and very visible irritation—asshole—just stared at me, then I heard him move to get up and presumably walk around the desk to me. What, did he think I was drawing dirty pictures on his desk? What a…Okay…So I would have done that if he were like, my teacher or something…

"What isn't finished?" he asked me, raising a single eyebrow. Huh. I was starting to think that if one rose, the other would, too.

"If you sit down, I'll show you what I have so far." I said instead of giving him a real answer, raising my eyebrows in a mock of his earlier expression. (More specifically, the one he'd given me when I'd been explaining Aslan's realm. A sort of _'are you serious' _look.)

When the upper half of his body disappeared for the most part, I slowly got onto my knees, looking down at my paper almost sheepishly before showing him what I'd been doing.

All I was doing was drawing him the way he'd been just moments before, leaning over his paper work and staring at it with a surprising amount of grudging-ness….Is that a word? Well, I made it one. Thing was, I was really shy about my work, even though my art teacher said I was pretty decent for a kid. (Which, I'd bristled at for a while.) Plus, Mustang was a little intimidating, despite his major sexiness. AND HE WAS A MILITARY GUY. HE'D JUST MAKE FUN OF ME.

(Because guys in the military are tough and they spit on kittens and rainbows and shoot bad guys and crap out flames and bullets.)

…

(Or maybe that was Dionysus. I knew Percy didn't like him for one reason or another.)

Mustang looked at the page for a few moments, then, SHOCKINGLY ENOUGH, both of his eyebrows raised. "This is what you were doing?" he asked me, a little disappointed. Or so it seemed.

Maybe he just wanted me to do something bad so he wouldn't have to do that paperwork of his.

He turned over the paper so it was facing me, revealing my black and white drawing of himself looking down at his desk, one of his eyes half-colored in and his hair just a little outline. The quizzical expression on his face mixed with disappointment at the lack of a true distraction would have been funny, had I not been waiting for him to crap aforementioned flames and bullets.

"Yeah, that's it. But it's not done! Now you have a creepy half-eye, and you're bald, too." I said as if it was _his _fault. Which…It sort of was. If he had just let me peer up at him in a totally non-creeper fashion without questioning it, he would have looked better.

Roy just stared at me blankly for a few moments. The look on his face was one I knew well. It was like he was making a mental note to himself. _Never have a teenage girl. _I saw it on Uncle Harry all the time. Then Mustang just blinked and shook his head, passing me the paper again.

"My fault, really? Maybe you should have drawn faster." he retorted. I gaped at him.

"Oh, so, basically, what you're saying is, it's my fault that you have a totally creepy eye and invisible hair? 'Cause for the record, pal, in about forty years, you'll look like that without _my _help." I shot back, eyebrows raised.

Well...Actually...It depended on how old he was. He couldn't have been older than twenty-five, surely…Then an image of Andrew Garfield, who was, by some sorcery, the big 3-0 came to mind and I just shook my head, not prepared to deal with that weirdness. (HE LOOKED LIKE HE WAS A FEW YEARS OLDER THAN ME, OKAY?! THAT'S NOT NATURAL.)

So, in the span of two seconds, I decided to give Mustang a range of twenty-five to thirty. Logically speaking, if he was any sort of colonel, he'd have had to be closer to thirty because that was pretty young, anyway. Unless he was secretly a genius…That could be very fun….

What?

Brainy's sexy.

"Is that so?" he asked me, almost amused. Onyx eyes just stared at me, as if mocking me.

I nodded, face set in a wide-eyed look. "Yep. One day, you're gonna get old. And then, your eyes will be a little cloudy, and if you have any hair left, it'll be so thin and gray, it'll be invisible. I have foreseen the truth." I stated ominously, resting my chin on the desk and giving him my best 'crazy' look.

Colonel Sexy just stared at me, then shook his head, standing up and crossing the room in a few long-legged strides. I watched somewhat curiously as he poked his head out the door and wondered what he was doing.

Then, I heard, "Somebody get Maes in here."

Oh, shit.

Was that the guy that went nuts showing pictures of his kid?

I loved kids, honestly, but the parents bragging about them…Let's just say I had enough of that happen to myself for it to just bring in a little bit of trauma.

Maybe I could pretend to be Helen Keller for a little bit…

* * *

**There ya have it, folks! No one except Mustang and Hawkeye in this chapter, unfortunately. Which means no Ed and Al until next chapter, assuming I can squeeze them in. And yes, I know that Riza's part in the chapter was small, but we'll be seeing a ton of her, along with a certain Colonel Sexy too. I've probably botched up his character a bit and somehow I feel that I've overestimated his patience, too, but LIKE I SAID. I'M CHANGING SMALL THINGS. He's still recognizably Roy though, right? (Just imagine him saying TARDIS though. I died of laughter.)  
**

**There's something I wanna ask you guys. I'm gonna be mixing in a lot of stuff from the original FMA and Brotherhood, so that just makes me wonder. What do you guys wanna see? We'll be getting window ninjas eventually, I assure you, but is there anything from either series you ABSOLUTELY want to see? For example, which Homunculi? Do you want little Wrathy or Captain Eyepatch to be Wrath? And what about the Homuncubrat (THE CREEPY LITTLE KID!PRIDE) or Eyepatch up there? (Yes. I made up a word for the Brotherhood Pride. HE'S A LITTLE BRAT, I'M TELLING YOU.) And, since we have window ninjas coming…Does anyone want Greedling? (That won't be for a while yet, but I wanna know in advance so I can plan the story better.)**

**A couple of other things. First off, thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed this story! Special shout out to Wolves Run Free, who I've had hilarious conversations with. She has a HILARIOUS fic called Soul Partners based on a dream of hers that you guys should check out. It's about this girl who gets taken into Amestris and, for lack of a better term, 'latches' on to the first person she touches there. They can't go thirty feet from each other, and if one gets hurt, so does the other. And of course, the luck of the fangirl directly interfered and (I think Truth is getting some sick amusement out of this) she tripped directly into everyone's favorite plant head! (Envy is so not amused by this, but I sure am!) If you guys wanna laugh, then you NEED to check out this fic. And when you do, try googling soulmates and read Plato's concept on the Wikipedia page. LET'S SEE WHO CAN FIND THE IRONY FIRST! **

**Finally, I just want to say that Mel might seem a little…Weird at first, but in real life, she's exaggerated and rude when she's in a situation she doesn't understand, or around people she's not comfortable with. Once she fully settles in to Amestris (we'll see how long that denial will last) she'll be a bit different. And, for those of you who care, I've changed the cover pic to something SO not in this fandom, but it'll come into play the next chapter.**

**AND OHMYGOD WHY DO I MAKE SUCH LONG AUTHOR'S NOTES SOMEONE STOP ME.**

**Okay! So, to wrap it up, tell me what you guys wanna see, READ THAT HILARIOUS FIC AND PLATO'S CONCEPT OF SOULMATES, FIND THE IRONY, AND GET USED TO MEL!**

**Oh. Reviewing is good too. :3**

**Hopefully I'll be able to update sometime next week! If you wanna talk about this fic with me, feel free to pm me or just leave a review! UNTIL NEXT TIME!**


	3. Investigations Officer

**HERE'S CHAPTER THREE! WOO!**

**Note: PLEASE read the bottom author's note. IT HAS IMPORTANT STUFF! But before we get to the chapter, I'd just like to thank everyone that's reviewed. They always make me so happy, and I'm always grinning because of it. (Also, Aura Heart! I'm glad I made you laugh!)**

**Now…ONWARDS!**

* * *

I was actually really starting to hate Roy Mustang.

Maes Hughes was a very nice guy. He was a little wary of me and my rather…unique story on my appearance, but he was still nice nonetheless. Roy apparently needed me out of the room for some business he had to take care of (meaning I had somehow annoyed him) and since Hughes was having a slow day, could he watch me for a few hours until everything was sorted out?

Maes had agreed easily enough, and I was perfectly content to explore a little bit of the 'headquarters'. Plus, Roy wasn't staying still long enough for me to finish my drawing. So, I'd followed Hughes to his area, actually getting to say hello to some of the guys in the cubicles or whatever they were outside Roy Boy's private office. (I only remembered seeing Hawkeye again, and there was some guy with a cigarette whose name was like, Havoc or something, and then a surprisingly young guy named Fuery or something who was kinda cute. There were a couple of other guys, but I wasn't really paying much attention. I REMEMBER THE GUYS WITH THE STRANGE NAMES.)

On the way to Hughes' office or whatever it was, I happened to fall into easy conversation with him. I wouldn't tell him anything more about my appearance than I had told Colonel Sexy, but we did talk about other stuff, like what Narnia was like. (He didn't really buy it, but it was one of the funniest conversations I've ever had. Trying to tell him about how if I didn't go back soon, it'd be a few hundred years later was impossible to explain with a straight face.) Then, somehow, despite my caution, I'd happened to ask the worst possible question.

"Do you have any kids?"

IT SLIPPED OUT.

Since then, I'd been listening to him gush about his daughter, Elysia for AN HOUR. I just _knew _that Roy was sitting in his office, cackling an evil laugh of evil manliness. He had to have known that this would happen.

I'd been showed picture after _picture _of Elysia, and I'd heard everything from how _cute _she was, carrying around her new teddy bear to how she was starting to sing and she had the voice of an _angel._

"It's not just me, everyone agrees. She sounds like an absolute _angel!"_Hughes said, and I swore I saw his eyes turn into hearts for a few seconds. "She's going to be a _star!" _

Discreetly rubbing my temples, I nodded and forced a smile. "I'm sure she will be, Mr. Hughes." I replied. _Guaranteed everyone's just terrified to see what'd happen if someone didn't think Elysia is the most perfect child in the universe. _I thought. Hughes was a cool guy, honestly.

But he had an entire freaking photo album's worth of pictures in his pockets, and I was terrified to see what he had in his wallet. (Dads like him ALWAYS have a plethora of pictures in their wallets.)

"What about you, Melody? What do you do in your spare time?" Hughes asked me suddenly. I blinked, taken aback by the sudden change of subject. Was he…Was he actually _done?_

I shrugged, not really thinking about it too much. (Never look a gift horse in the mouth, children!) "I draw a lot. Took karate for a few years….I pretty much jump anyone who has a book I want to read…But mostly, I just hang around my best friend." I replied, pursing my lips and swiveling around in the chair Maes had produced for me. (Even though his cubicle type thing wasn't very big…At all...) He nodded, watching me for a few moments.

"What do you two do together?" I rolled my eyes at the question.

"Everything. I mean, her favorite thing to do involves these…" I paused, then shook my head. "Stories about alchemy, I guess, but, I mean, we do everything together. She's not coordinated enough to climb around like I do—plus, she just freaks out if she's more than a foot off the ground—but we still do a ton of stuff. There was this time we decided to be outdoorsy and took a hike in the woods a few miles from her house…We got lost and didn't find our way home until around ten at night, and by then, our parents were calling the cops."

I laughed at the memory, shaking my head. Our moms had been hysterical, crying and making unintelligible noises when they saw us.

"We get in a lot of trouble, and it's a miracle our moms haven't made us find new friends yet." I added after a momentary pause, smiling a little.

Although, I was totally going to murder Kat when I woke up.

Hughes was watching me intently, but when he noticed that I had noticed, he just shook his head, grinning. "I hope Elysia has a friend like that when she's older. Well, I could do without her getting lost…" he added as an afterthought.

I shrugged, looking up at the ceiling. "If she's as great as you've described her, she'll have _plenty _of friends." I told him, secretly praying that he wouldn't go into another 'ELYSIA IS THE BEST THING IN THE WORLD' rant.

Time passed sluggishly after that. We had a pleasant conversation, and _somehow _he didn't say much else about Elysia, so it was good. I got to draw him while he did his work. I'd drawn him as animated as he probably was on TV, complete with hearts coming out of his eyes and a picture clutched in his hands. Hughes was a good multi-tasker, talking to me on the side while he did paperwork or whatever. (Roy Boy had really just muttered under his breath and pretended I didn't exist until I started poking my head up at him.)

Eventually, I had to go to the bathroom again, and Hughes had given me basic directions to the nearest women's bathroom, so I spent maybe fifteen minutes wandering around until I came across it.

I did my business and fixed my shirt, looking in the mirror to make sure I was going to pull it up correctly (since I ALWAYS had rubber bands on my wrists). That was when the first inkling of doubt hit me. (Because having to go pee in a dream twice wasn't enough of a hint.) There was something very wrong with my reflection. Not at first sight, maybe, which would explain why I hadn't noticed the first time I had gone to the bathroom. I didn't look right.

For one thing, my hair was a _lot _darker than it had been when I had fallen asleep. I'd had it dyed only a week before so it was the color of Karen Gillan's in season seven of Doctor Who. But when I looked in the mirror, I realized that it was almost black, with a few red highlights….What? (Naturally, my hair was a horrible light orange, so that was odd…) And my skin was just a bit paler than it normally was….My eyes really got me though. Instead of their regular green, they had some…other color. I couldn't tell what it was, since it was really blended in…But they weren't green like they normally were.

"What is that, blue?" I muttered to myself. "Purple?" I shook my head and tried to clear all the doubt from my head. Just because for a good almost sixteen years, my appearance was always the same in dreams didn't mean that couldn't change. Slowly, I pulled up my hair into a high ponytail, doing my best to ignore that little niggling doubt in the back of my mind.

To distract myself on the way back and keep that doubt from spreading, I started singing an Owl City song. I didn't pay much attention to the strange looks I got, just singing to myself.

"_You were so hard to find, with oh so many clouds across my summer sky,  
You, my constellation prize, yeah, every single star is sparkling in your eyes." _I sang as I walked back into Hughes' area. He looked up at the sound of my voice, eyebrows raised. Grinning, I plopped down onto my chair and continued singing._  
"So don't you go, no, don't you go,  
'Cause don't you know, I'm up here alone.  
So high like a satellite, I'm sending you a signal tonight..."_

He was probably staring because I'm a horrible singer, but who knows? Maybe teenage girls didn't go around military headquarters singing Owl City. It brightened up the place!

"Is that music from Narnia?" Hughes asked me suddenly. I blinked, raising my eyebrows.

"Uh, no, I think he's from, like, Minnesota or something. Some town that starts with an O." I replied, making myself comfortable. "Not something I can pronounce without seeing it on paper, but, yeah. Some small town, I'm sure. They're all over America, but most of them sound European, I swear."

Too late, I realized my slip. Hughes just raised his eyebrows, and I knew he knew I knew I was caught. "Uhhh….I mean….Dammit." I muttered, shaking my head.

"Where's America?" he asked, looking interested. I shook my head again, looking down at my hands.

"Between Central America and Canada…" I said vaguely. "Which are, in turn, sort of near South America and Europe. Then there's Asia and I think there's one more…." I didn't mean to keep talking, but then I realized something. Weren't there supposed to be like, seven continents or something? _North America, South America, Europe, Asia…Do the two poles count? AND WHAT'S THE OTHER ONE? Uh…Argentina? Nope, that's in South America, I think….Is there another America I'm missing? AUSTRALIA! THAT'S IT! AUSTRALIA! North America, South America, Europe, Asia, Australia, North Pole and South Pole! Or whatever they're called._

"And everything is between the North and South Poles!" I added triumphantly. Hughes looked like he was caught between being interested and being worried for my mental state. I realized my mistake again and groaned inwardly. "America is basically…This place in Narnia. Or...Maybe…Narnia is in us. No, Narnia is like in England or something. But, basically…" I paused, then, realizing Hughes wanted an explanation, started again.

"We have these…seven….colonies, in Narnia. America, South America, Europe, Asia, Australia, and the North and South Poles. I hail from America, which has Tyler Posey and James Franco. But, uh, see, Europe…That's where it's all at. America was originally like, the property of England, which is in Europe, but then we decided we wanted freedom and there was something about no taxation without representation or something. But Europe has everything. Harry Potter, the Doctor, Hogwarts, the main entrance to Narnia, and Sherlock Holmes."

"But if the entrance to Narnia is in England, and you're from America, how can you be from Narnia?" Hughes asked. Part of me was facepalming, while the other just couldn't believe that we were having this conversation. I bit my lip.

"See, there are these…Sectors…Of Narnia, you could call them. Narnia is both a region and a country. I'm from the region, but the actual country is in England. Sort of." I explained hastily.

"And you all…travel by closet?"

I wasn't really sure how I was explaining it all with a straight face. IT WAS THE MOST RIDICULOUS CONVERSATION….

"Well, basically, when we get our permits, we use wardrobes to get to places. Sometimes, we take the Hogwarts Express, but wardrobes…That's where it's at. But once we get our licenses…We can travel by TARDISes, which are bigger on the inside."

There was no way he believed me, but I was pretty sure my story was amusing enough that he wanted to know more. (Either that or he was collecting evidence that I was insane so they could lock me in an asylum.)

* * *

Finally, it was the end of the day and I was NOT tired. Nope. Hughes took me back to Roy Boy's office and I insisted I wasn't tired. Or hungry. Because that doesn't happen in dreams. In dreams, you can go hours without food. Or sleep. BECAUSE THAT'S HOW DREAMS WORK AND IT WAS ALL A DREAM.

Let's just skip over the conversation we had, because, frankly, it just consisted of Roy Boy calling me annoying, hoping I didn't cause Maes too much trouble, Hughes insisting that I was just fine, me telling Roy I was a perfect angel…

Somehow, I ended up being dragged out of the office by Hughes. One minute, I was having a staring contest with Colonel Sexy, then Hughes was taking me to his house because I had nowhere else to stay. (I was beyond confused at the topic jump, so I just sort of let him drag me out by my collar.)

"You know," I started, breaking the silence that had fallen over us. "Most people would find it stupid to just let some mysterious girl who appeared out of nowhere stay at their house with their wife and daughter."

Hughes just laughed, which surprised me a little bit. Glancing over at him, I shifted a little.

"Melody, if you were really _dangerous, _do you think Roy would have let you out of his sight?" he asked me. I considered that, then nodded.

"You have a good point. I mean, on one hand, I'm a little offended that I don't seem threatening, but, since I'm not…It makes sense." I mulled over that for the rest of the way to his home, wondering if I really was just nonthreatening.

After a few minutes, Hughes grinned at me. "Here we are!" he said cheerfully. I shook my head and followed after him. Somehow, he was already halfway to the door.

I never saw any man so eager to get home unless it was about a football game, lemme tell you.

Part of me wanted to smile because it'd been so long since I'd seen a guy so excited to see his wife and kid, and while my head spun around in circles when he went on and on about Elysia, it was sweet. Another part of me was a bit sad, because I could faintly remember Dad being that way before he…

Anyway.

I followed Hughes inside slowly, a shy smile creeping onto my face. He was already inside by the time I hopped up the steps, hugging a little girl tightly while she said something about his beard being 'itchy'. He squeezed her one last time, then straightened up and near repeated the process with a tall blonde-ish woman I assumed to be his wife. While they hugged and kissed—yuck—the little girl I had to assume was Elysia looked up at me curiously.

"Who're you?" she asked in what had to be the cutest voice ever.

Hughes was right. SHE WAS ADORABLE. But maybe that was just the part of me that _looooooved _little kids. EITHER WAY. HUGHES HAD A FRICKING ADORABLE DAUGHTER. (…..I was actually wondering if it was some sort of disease he passed on, or…?)

Grinning, I crouched down so I was at her level. "Hiya, sweetie. I'm Melody." I said cheerfully. "What's your name?"

"Elysia." she answered a little shyly. "Are you Daddy's friend?"

I glanced up at Hughes, who was watching me with an 'I told you she's the cutest thing ever' look on his face, then shrugged.

"You could say that, yeah." I replied, returning my gaze to Elysia. She looked at me for a few moments, then beamed.

"Melody's going to be staying with us tonight, Elysia. Isn't that exciting?" Hughes asked her. Her large smile only widened and I looked up again.

"Really, though, I don't want to impose or whatever. If you want, I can just find a box somewhere." I said, looking from Hughes to his wife, who I was pretty sure he'd called Gracia or something…And I was really only half-joking about the box thing. (I'd learned how to sleep in almost any position at an early age, so, really, they could have put me just about anywhere and I would've been fine.)

"Oh, no, it's no trouble at all." Gracia (that was her name, right?) said, smiling at me. Hughes nodded.

"Besides, having you sleep in a box is what Roy would have just done." Maes pointed out. I had to nod at that. Even though he was joking…Somehow, I just knew Roy Boy hadn't really had a plan for me and would have made me sleep somewhere weird if Hughes hadn't intervened and DRAGGED ME OFF.

"Well, if you say so…"

I wasn't sure why I was so worried about being a bother when it was just a dream, and I'd surely be waking up. Because that's all it was. A dream. It had to be, because there was no possible way that I could ever, ever be anywhere but where I belonged, which was at Kat's house. Just because it wasn't following how _every single dream I'd ever had went, _did not mean it wasn't a dream.

…..Right?

* * *

**Okay, I'm sure you all want to murder me because I KEEP PUTTING OFF ED AND AL. But I swear on my life that they WILL be in the next chapter. IF NOT, I SWEAR YOU CAN ALL BEAT ME WITH FISH. Kay? Kay.**

**Anyway, I know, I really have to stop just having Mel harass one canon at a time and bring in more people, BUT I DID! IT'S THE HUGHES FAMILY! WOO! (Even though Elysia and Gracia were in there for about two seconds…GAH. I CAN'T WIN.)**

**IMPORTANT NEWS**

**One. I need your help! I have everything set up except for one thing. WHICH WRATH DO YOU GUYS WANT? I honestly can't decide, and while I'd love to have Brotherhood Pride and the original Wrath in one fic, I don't think that'd work too well. So, it's up to you guys! Who do you wanna see?**

**Two. Wolves Run Free and I are currently brainstorming for a CROSSOVER OF OUR FICS! Her fic, Soul Partners, is hilarious and totally worth the read, and it could be pretty darn funny. I'll make sure to keep you guys posted—even though it's likely it won't be posted until December or so.**

**Three. I FOUND MY TUMBLR AGAIN! The url is alec-freaking-bane, so if you want to have an idea of when I'll be updating, or news on my other fics, just check there! (It's also my personal though, so you might find weird posts every now and then..)**

**Now, to keep up my trend of insanely long author's notes… (This is the part you guys can skip if you want…) Do I sense a bit of plot forming up there? Something about appearances? Hmm…What could that be, I wonder? ;) And I'm wondering how many of you will pick up on something else I put in there.**

**AH! Melody's denial is starting to crumble! I wonder how she'll deal with everything once it finally hits her for sure.**

**And...did I already say what song that was Mel was singing? If not, it's Speed of Love by Owl City, and, unlike how some authors do things, it's not secretly relevant to the fic. YOU'LL KNOW WHEN THINGS ARE BECAUSE I'M ABOUT AS SUBTLE AS A GUN.**

**So, to wrap it all up, PLEASE tell me who you want. I'm leaning towards the 2003 Wrath, but it's seriously up to you guys. LEMME KNOW!**

**By the way, this chapter is horrible because, not naming any names, WOLVES RUN FREE, but someone was pressuring me to post, so YEAH. Hughes is probably a bit OOC, but shhh. Later I'll go back and edit. I just need to POST before she bites my head off.**

**And, in case I forgot to mention, I'm going to try to update weekly, so see you all next week!**

**XOXOX**


	4. Just a Dream

**CHAPTER FOUR! Woo! Sorry for the late update, guys. Please, please, PLEASE read the bottom author's note once you're done with the chapter.**

* * *

So I was internally freaking out.

Gracia was making dinner—and had shooed me away when I'd offered to help—and I was with Elysia and Maes in the living room. There was a little bandage wrapped around my index finger from a cut I'd accidentally given it—the reason Gracia had shooed me—and….Well…It hurt. My finger wasn't necessarily _in pain,_ but it sure was sore and sensitive.

Two things that can't happen in dreams.

I'd quickly plastered on a smile, watching Elysia draw a red sun (or maybe it was a clown…) and pretending like I wasn't five seconds away from having a panic attack. It was just…A really realistic dream. That was all. Just a dream. Only just a dream.

_Great. Now I'm thinking of that Nelly song, _I thought somewhat sourly, plastering a fake smile on my face whenever Hughes looked my way. I'd sort of assumed that Super Dad wouldn't be very observant, but…He _was _an investigations officer. If there was anything less of a smile on my face, he'd immediately jump on it, asking me if I was okay.

"So, Melody, what's your family like?" he asked me suddenly, while I was dutifully handing Elysia crayons. I tensed at the question, then smiled brightly, closing my eyes.

"Oh, you know, regular family." I replied, waving a hand. "Nothing too special."

I hoped he would drop the subject, but clearly, he wasn't going to. "What do your parents do? They have to be worried that you're not home."

I tried to keep my smile in place, giving Elysia a green crayon. "Well, my mom's a chef at a local restaurant and she usually stays there pretty late. And my dad…" I trailed off, seeing Elysia grab a new sheet of paper. "Whatcha drawing now, sweetie?" I asked in a high-pitched voice, internally wincing at my bad subject-changing skills.

She told me she was going to draw 'mommy and daddy', and I smiled, ruffling her hair and grabbing an extra sheet as well. I tried to pretend I didn't notice Hughes watching me closely, picking up the random pencil in Elysia's collection (really, why do little kids always have at least one pencil with their crayons?) and using the hard ground to start my own drawing.

Anxiety was gnawing at me from the inside, something I was familiar with. I figured I had maybe fifteen minutes before it really got to me and turned into a full-blown panic attack, so I tried to make use of that time, glancing around the little house to try to find something to draw. Eventually, I settled on doing a rough sketch of Elysia, trying to focus on my work and not on the horrible reality looming over me. I just had to keep thinking of it as a dream. Because that was all this was, it was just a dream. It's all it could have been.

That was able to keep me distracted for a while. Hughes would ask me a question every now and then, I would give an aggressively-perky answer, look up to check Elysia's position, then return to my work. I had to keep focusing my breathing, sucking in a great amount of air through my mouth and letting it go out my nose. (Probably the wrong order, but either way, I was breathing.) Elysia would pause every now and then and ask me why I was breathing funny, and I'd just tell her that it was because dinner smelled so good. Which, it actually did, but that wasn't really helping me at all.

I just had to tell myself that it was an extremely vivid dream. I had those all the time! Like the phase I went through last December when I kept having dreams about the Ziggy's sign murdering me, or all of my Adam Levine dreams. (I'm not even going into those. They're not inappropriate so much as plain _weird._)

Soon after I finished drawing Elysia's hair, Gracia called us from the kitchen to say dinner was ready.

That was probably more awkward than any of us would like to admit.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters, Melody?" Gracia asked me as she cut into what looked like beef (but I did remember Kat telling me that they didn't have certain things, so it could have been freaking buffalo, for all I knew.). I nodded, pressing my lips together.

"An older brother, yeah. He's in his late twenties, though, so I barely see him anymore." I said, picking at my own food. I was actually scared to eat it. Not because I didn't think it would be good, but because it probably _would _be good. That wouldn't help the dream thing at all.

"Does he have a job?" Hughes asked. (On second thought, whenever I'm around the whole family, I'm just referring to him as Maes, because technically, they're _all _Hughes.)

"Usually, yeah. I'm not too sure what he's doing this month. I think something in financing." I told him, twisting some lettuce around my fork. "Last time we talked, he said he was selling sports-themed religious paintings, so who knows?"

Maes blinked. "Sports-themed religious paintings?" he asked, sounding intrigued. Gracia's eyebrows rose.

I nodded. "Yeah, like, God playing baseball, football, stuff like that."

They both looked perplexed, but I just figured it had to do with the weirdness of his job. (And yes, those actually _did_ exist. Mom had one hanging up in the den as a joke.)

"What brings you to Amestris?" Gracia asked me next, smiling down at me while I was helping Elysia cut her meat into slightly smaller pieces. I tried to not grin. Despite my worry, I actually loved telling my story.

Maes gave me a look that was caught between amusement and warning, shaking his head slightly. I just shrugged.

"Got lost in the closet on the way to Narnia." I replied nonchalantly, absentmindedly putting a piece of beef—it _was _beef—in my mouth. It tasted wonderful. Which only worried me further.

But scientifically speaking, it was impossible for this to be anything but a dream. Even if Fullmetal Whatsit was another universe, those were closed off. If they weren't, then all universes could be in trouble. Well, going by Doctor Who standards. If I were to go with Star Trek science, then, _technically, _it could be possible, but as far as I knew, Nero didn't screw anything up. As for Star Gate…Well…Let's not. I was pretty sure they _did _go to some weird universe or whatever in the movie. (One of them, at least. I had no clue how many there actually were.) There had been the gate, and I'd remembered getting really freaked out because of Ra being a creepy dude.

"I'm sorry?" Gracia asked, eyebrows furrowing.

I frowned. Gate. Gate….Gate and…..Truth? Blinking, I stared down at my plate, feeling as if something was working its way to the front of my mind. There was something about a gate, and I remembered thinking about the truth just before entering Roy's office.

"Melody? Are you feeling okay?" Maes asked me, putting a hand on my arm. I jumped, biting my lip.

"Actually….I'm not. Can I…Can I please be excused?" I asked weakly, trying my hardest to ignore the invisible weight pressing against my chest. "I think I need to get some sleep."

My tone was as apologetic as it possibly could have been. I didn't want to worry them, and, really, I'd be fine. I just needed to sleep. When you fall asleep or die in a dream, you wake up. Simple logic. Gracia gave me a worried look, and Elysia even asked me if I was all right, but I waved them both off, insisting it was just fatigue. Maes didn't seem like he quite believed me, but nodded regardless, quietly directing me to the guest room and telling me to just shout if I needed anything.

I scurried off as fast as I could without seeming suspicious, finding the room and closing the door behind me. I didn't bother turning the light on, feeling around for the bed and eventually sitting on the very edge.

"Focus the breathing, focus the breathing…" I said to myself, breathing in and out slowly. "This is just a dream, Mel. Just a dream, and when you fall asleep, you'll wake up in Kat's bed and she'll get mad at you for falling asleep during her show."

I kept up my little mantra, eventually laying on top of the blankets and closing my eyes. Something white floated into my mind. Well, to be specific, a _huge _set of white chompers stretched into a grin that could rival the Cheshire Cat's. _Creepy._

* * *

I wasn't sure when I was able to finally fall asleep, having been able to chant my little mantra for what felt like a few hours. However, I did end up waking up in a bright room in what had seemed like two seconds of sleep.

I groaned, yanking the pillow out from under my head and pushing it onto my face. While one hand held the pillow in place, the other searched for Kat on the other side of the bed. When my fingers were met with slightly warm sheets, I just mumbled to myself, figuring she'd gotten up early to watch her show on the big screen in the living room before her parents got up. Dismissing her absence as nothing special, I rolled onto my stomach, intending to go back to sleep. The pillow slid off my head and onto the floor, making me frown and open my eyes. It took me a second, but finally, the plain walls clicked into place and I shot up.

Why was I still in the Hughes' spare bedroom? I shouldn't have been. Cautiously poking a hand out, I found a little bandage wrapped around my index finger. I tried to keep the panic at bay, slowly unwrapping my finger. I was just met with smooth skin and a tiny white scar that had already been there from an unfortunate incident with a staple gun a few years back.

…What?

Now frowning, I got out of the bed slowly and waved my hands around, thinking of one of my least favorite episodes of Doctor Who, Amy's Choice. Dream Lord. The Doctor had said to look for anything that didn't ring true, or for pixilation or whatever, so there I was, examining the room for anything that seemed weird and waving my hands around to check for any weird movements in the air.

Nothing.

All right.

Weird thing number one: I woke up in a dream after falling asleep in said dream.

Weird thing number two: In the dream, I'd cut my finger, and while the bandage had been on my finger, the cut was gone.

And finally, weird thing number three: I WOKE UP IN A FREAKING DREAM.

Part of me was seriously hoping I'd been drugged up, because that would have made a lot more sense than what I wasn't willing to admit.

Again, my mind went to the science part. If the stupid cartoon were another universe, I'd have had to have been in Cardiff near the Rift, because the Rift gave the TARDIS fuel and you never know what's going on with the Rift. Even then, travel between parallel universes was strictly forbidden. Bubble universes, not necessarily, but those were few and far in between. Alternate universes or whatever were a strict no no. The Doctor had closed off all of those , and he'd had to burn up an entire sun to say goodbye. And the pocket universes—or were they echoes?—were nearly impossible to get into, and Clara had had to _beg _the TARDIS to go in.

So there was the Doctor Who theory.

Then there was Star Trek. I couldn't remember if in the original series they had ever gone through to other universes, but I did know that in the newer movies, Nero had caused the already somewhat established universe to jiggle around, killing Jim's dad when he should have been alive, and destroying Vulcan when it _really _should have been there.

There was no universe travel in Star Wars, so that left me with the only other sci-fi thing I'd actually liked.

Star Gate.

I didn't remember much of the movie, but I _did _remember that they'd had to piece together some sort of gate, and when they did, a few guys were transported to a place that _could _have been another universe, but I was pretty sure it'd been a planet or something where Ra was Head Bitch and his scary guards were his Warriors of Evil Bitchiness.

But that was the real problem. Science _fiction. _Fiction. Even if eventually, those sort of advances were possible, that wouldn't have been in my lifetime.

Again, I turned to the drug possibility.

Before I could really ponder that, there was a soft knock on the door.

"Melody, are you awake yet? Roy wants me to bring you in." Maes called. I shook myself out of my thought process, taking a slightly unsteady step toward the door. I opened it and put on a smile.

"I'm up!" I said with fake cheerfulness. Maes smiled, a look of relief passing over his face. He'd been worried? Why?

"Good, because we actually need to leave in a few minutes. Are you feeling better?" he asked as I left the door and started straightening out the bed. I spent two seconds debating before I nodded, fluffing up the pillow.

"Yeah, I'm much better now. Is there any time for breakfast before we leave?" I asked, turning around and letting my hair out of its ponytail. I hated sleeping with my hair up. My roots always hurt afterword. Making a face as I ran my fingers through my tangled hair, I followed Maes out to the kitchen.

"Unfortunately not, but Gracia made you a sandwich to eat on the way!" he called over his shoulder, then picked up Elysia and gave her a huge kiss on the cheek. I smiled a bit watching him tell her that he loved her, then wandered into the kitchen to find Gracia wrapping up a sandwich.

"Good morning, Melody." she said warmly, putting the sandwich into my hand before I could even open my mouth. "Did you sleep well?"

I nodded, smiling despite myself. "Yeah, I did." Sure, I was freaking confused, but I had at least slept. "Thanks for having me last night. It was really nice of you." I added. She only smiled.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all. You were a joy to have, even if you _did _get a little sick." she told me. _SEE, ROY?! I'M A JOY TO BE AROUND! _I yelled in my head. _And I'm not crazy. _"Hopefully, we'll get to see you again soon."

I nodded, opening my mouth to reply, but then Maes swept in, kissing her and saying his goodbyes. Just as I was looking away and thinking about how gross that was, he was already yanking me out the door and into a car.

"Sorry for the rush. Roy actually wanted you an hour ago, but I didn't want to wake you up if you were still feeling sick." he explained as he started driving. I wiggled into the passenger seat, not used to being able to ride up front. Usually, Mom made me sit in the back because the airbags could kill me. (NOT MY FAULT I WAS THE SIZE OF A FREAKING PEA, OKAY? I was a petite girl.)

I shrugged, putting on my seatbelt a few seconds too late. "Ah, whatever. I usually don't get up until five minutes before I have to leave for school anyway, so I'm used to rushing." I said, carefully unwrapping a little bit of my sandwich and taking a bite.

Mm. Nothing like roast beef in the morning, lemme tell you.

Hughes glanced over at me, eyebrows raised. "Hey, didn't you cut your finger last night?" he asked, sounding puzzled. I frowned, looking at all of my fingers.

"I thought I did, but I have the same scars I usually do." I replied around a mouthful of beef.

Sometimes I really wonder why more guys don't want to date me. I was the picture of feminine charm.

….As I tore into a sandwich like I hadn't eaten in days.

"What do you usually have?" he wondered, stealing another glance at me. Sucking in a piece of beef, I shrugged, chewing and swallowing before I answered.

"Well, there's the scar on my finger from the staple gun, the huge scar on my left palm from a hot glue gun, and then there's the scar on my middle finger from where I got my first blister and tried to pop it—never do that. It's absolutely nightmarish and probably some of the worst pain I've ever had. I also have a scar on my wrist from where I fell out of a tree and thought for sure I was going to have to get my hand amputated…."

Hughes was silent, and I peeked over at him. His disturbed face would have been comical in any other situation.

"…You get hurt a lot, don't you?" he asked finally, turning a corner. I finished off my sandwich in record time and nodded, crumpling up the plastic Gracia had wrapped it in and shoving it into my pocket.

"Yeah, pretty much. Once I got into karate, I started getting new injuries, so my mom eventually got me into less dangerous activities." I replied, shrugging. "Didn't stop me from climbing onto our neighbor's roof and singing at the top of my lungs when I was on a sugar high, but she tried."

Now you may be wondering what those other activities were, and what I had been doing on the roof.

First…She made me take ballet and gymnastics. Total girl things. I hated them both, but I still took them.

Second…Two words: sugar high. I'd somehow ended up on their roof, singing a Maroon 5 song at the top of my lungs.

One that was, without a doubt, about adult bedroom things. But I'd always loved Hands All Over, and I'd been hyper…

"…I can't even imagine having a daughter like you." Hughes admitted finally. I got the vague feeling he didn't know for sure what some of the stuff I was talking about was, but he still knew what weirdness I was able to get into.

"I actually get that a lot."

We fell into a mostly comfortable silence after that, me staring out the window and him driving. I was completely freaking out on the inside, but I was putting on a good show, pretending that nothing was wrong. Eventually, we were at Central Headquarters and Hughes was leading me to Roy Boy's office. He got me mostly there, then said he needed to go to his own area. I remembered enough to know where Roy Boy was at, so I gave him a wave and proceeded to the direction I was sure he was in.

I'd almost made it to the office, saying a quiet hello to his…team is the only word I could think of, (even though they all—minus Hawkeye, who was nowhere to be seen—were still staring at me curiously or talking about someone named Fairchild) when, suddenly, a shadow fell over me. A huge one. I froze, turning around slowly.

First I was met with a huge chest covered with the blue military uniform. Next, I noticed the arms, which were easily the size of a person and probably ripped the seams of the shirt whenever they moved, then, my eyes trailed up to the face.

A large, pale man was staring down at me with blue eyes. A single blond curl rested on his otherwise bald head, and his huge upper lip was covered by a bushy blond mustache. I noticed something else by his face and squinted, watching as it appeared and disappeared.

No fucking way.

The fucker was sparkling.

This took me all of ten seconds to realize. After my quick assessment, I did what anyone would do.

I let out a high pitched scream and whipped around, flying into Mustang's office and slamming the door behind me. The ebony-haired man looked up when I darted forward, diving behind his chair and accidentally jerking him around. Hawkeye was a few feet away, looking from me to the door urgently, a hand on her hip, where her gun was.

"Melody?! What's wrong?!" Roy Boy demanded as I hid behind him.

"THE FREAKING HULK IS OUTSIDE YOUR OFFICE, THAT'S WHAT'S WRONG!" I shrieked, gripping one of his arms tightly. His confused expression only became more confused, and Hawkeye frowned. "HE'S HUGE AND HE SPARKLES AND HIS ARMS ARE THE SIZE OF A PERSON AND DID I MENTION THE SPARKLING?!"

"Melody, did this man by any chance have a big blond mustache and blue eyes?" Hawkeye asked me calmly. I peeked up at her, nodding slowly. I was surprised when she gave me a small smile. "That's just Major Armstrong. He's nothing to be afraid of, I promise."

I felt a little stupid, so I just laughed nervously and gave her a nod, sinking down on the floor next to Roy, who was staring down at me with bemusement.

"You came in here screaming." he said when I raised an eyebrow.

"The man had arms the size of two of me and he sparkled. What else did you expect?" I asked, making a face. "Did you think I would give him a hug?"

Roy just shook his head and I eventually got up, moving around to sit on the couch in front of his desk.

He stared at me for a few moments, like he was expecting me to distract him from the mountain of paperwork in front of him. When I did nothing and Hawkeye lifted a brow as she flipped through a folder, he sighed, grudgingly grabbing a paper and his pen. I sat there almost brooding, chewing on my thumbnail. Coma. Coma. I was in a coma. That was the only solution. Either that, or I'd been doing acid without realizing it.

"Hey, uh," I started after a few minutes of silence, the question nagging at me finally winning. Roy glanced up and Hawkeye paused in her sorting of papers or whatever she was doing. "This is kind of weird, but…Do either of you know anything about some sort of gate?"

I was just met with more silence. Colonel Sexy flat out stared at me, and I swore I saw his eyes sweep from my arms to my legs. Hawkeye was watching me curiously, opening her mouth to speak, but Roy Boy beat her to it.

"Can you go ask if anyone out there has heard anything from Fullmetal?" he asked me suddenly. I blinked, surprised at the request and wondering why he was avoiding the question. Nonetheless, I slowly nodded, getting up and making my way to the door.

Just as I was about to open it, it was thrown open and I got smacked in the face with a door.

"WHAT THE SHIT?!" I screeched, holding my nose. I heard a clang of metal and bewildered voices quite close to me.

"Brother!"

"When did you start keeping girls behind your door, Bastard?"

I recognized the voice just enough to know that the Fullmetal Midget had arrived. (Either that or it was the crossdressing psycho, but somehow I doubted he/she would so casually walk into Roy's office.)

I was pretty sure he broke my nose with a door.

That was new. Next I'd get murdered by a vase.

* * *

**Hehe, I DID say Ed and Al would be in this chapter, didn't I? :D I JUST NEVER SAID HOW LONG. They're obviously gonna be in the next chapter a lot, and after that, it'll be a lot less of Mustang and his crew and more of Ed and Al's adventures! (Which may or may not bring a certain Xingese traveler in quite soon, along with a housewife.) **

**So, I'm WAY sorry for not updating last week. Or..TECHNICALLY THE WEEK BEFORE THAT TOO! To make up for it, I'm going to do two updates this week! Hopefully, the next one will be on either Wednesday, or Thursday. (There's no way I'll be able to do one on Friday because the Cory Monteith memorial episode of Glee is on Thursday and I'll be spending Friday trying to not cry.) I MIGHT do three, but the chances of that are EXTREMELY slim.**

**Also, I did some foreshadowing in this chapter! I'm pretty sure only Wolves Run Free will get what it is—because aside from real life Mel, she's the only one I've told about this—but IT'S STILL THERE, and I sincerely doubt that ANYONE else will actually know what it is.**

**I also made a small reference to something that ONLY she will get. But I'm gonna tell you all too, because I want you to look out for it! Some of you may be wondering who 'Fairchild' is, if any of you caught that. Well, if you wanna know who the heck Fairchild is, then keep an eye out for one of my two FMA fics coming out! One is called High Dive, and the other is currently called Bombshell, but that could easily change.**

**Omg my author's notes take FOREVER. But I do wanna address a few things. First, the rating of this fic MAY go up, but only because Mel swears a lot and eventually, it's gonna get very violent. (I'm pretty sure it SHOULD be M by now with how much she swears, but we'll see)**

**Second, Mel has ACTUALLY sang Hands All Over on someone's roof before, and the sports-themed religious paintings are actually real. I SWEAR THEY ARE.**

**Third, contrary to some belief, Melody is NOT a homunculus. What she is hasn't even been in the anime or manga, as far as I know, though there have been SIMILAR things. I'll tell you this, though. She's close to a homunculus, but she ISN'T one. Think about that. ;) **

**One thing I'm really surprised no one has picked up on, though, is Mel's refusal to talk about her father. I'm wondering if anyone has any ideas about that…. **

**I know this chapter is sort of rushed, but I felt bad for not updating, so I had to do a quick edit job and call it good. (Usually, when I edit, I'm OCD about it and basically change EVERYTHING about it.)**

**Also, as of right now, I'm thinking about incorporating both original Wrath and Brotherhood into this story, so I have to ask you guys. Since Fuhrer Bradley being a homunculus is pretty much inevitable, is there another sin you think he should be? **

**FINALLY, STOPPING THIS INSANELY LONG AUTHOR'S NOTE…GO READ SOUL PARTNERS AND LAUGH AT HOW RUDE ENVY IS.**


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